


The Logic of Gratitude

by prairiecrow



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Confessions, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-battle soliloquy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Logic of Gratitude

**Author's Note:**

> Set between S5 and S6.

You don't mind if I sit down here for a little while, do you? Of course you don't. You'll be unconscious for at least the next six hours and therefore are in no position to argue. So you just lie there and I'll just sit, and wish I could manage to snatch a couple of hours of sleep, and drink this cup of coffee and think about the autopsies I'll have to perform once I've finished it.

I lost two people today, when we need every single crewman we've got. Captain Sisko's going to be furious. Do you remember Ensign Elora? Pretty girl, blonde hair and blue eyes, only a little younger than me? You should: she was standing at the console next to yours on the bridge when the plasma conduits blew out. They brought you both in at the same time, both of you badly burned, both of you in highly unstable condition. 

Both of you dying, and I only had one set of hands — and not enough time to treat you both.

Logic dictated that I should have chosen Ensign Elora: a highly trained mission specialist whose expertise could prove vital in guaranteeing our survival, and a fellow Starfleet officer besides. You… well, even all these years later I still don't know half of what you're capable of.

She was a known and valued quantity. You were what you've always been, an enigma.

But I could only save one of you.

And I did.

…

I used to be in awe of you, did you know that? Who am I kidding: of course you did. I practically worshipped the ground you walked on — you seemed so clever to me then, so intelligent and worldly and mysterious. I followed wherever you led, like a puppy on a string. Even now, when I'm a lot older and wiser — as you said yourself, my boyish smile isn't so boyish anymore — even when I've learned that you're as limited in your own ways as the rest of us, even though I know how often and how well you lie, I still keep coming back to you for more. Sometimes I ask myself why, but the closest I can come to an answer is to remember that when I was young and foolish, when everybody else treated me like a child in uniform, you took it upon yourself to mentor me in at least some of the ways of the universe. You laughed with me many times, but I can't recall a single occasion where you laughed  _at_  me. You were a merciless teacher, sometimes even cruel, but sparring with you and solving the riddles you put in front of me taught me skills that have stood me in excellent stead ever since. And really, what else should I have expected from a Cardassian?

… 

There. Coffee's all gone. I wish I could stay and chat for a little while longer but the Captain's going to want a full report ASAP. Two people dead, and I'll have to explain the reasons behind the choices I made in triage. 

I have no regrets, really I don't. But I can't seem to stop thinking about poor Ensign Elora, cut down before she turned thirty, and what Starfleet is going to tell her parents about how and why she died.

The death certificate will say  _multiple organ failure due to plasma burn trauma_ … but if I told the absolute truth, which you've certainly taught me is not always a good idea, I'd have to put down her cause of death as:  _the logic of gratitude_. 

THE END


End file.
